


write with fire on my skin

by LouPF



Category: Kaptein Sabeltann | Captain Sabertooth - Formoe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blind Character, Crownprince Pinky, Deaf Character, Disabled Character, Falling In Love, Fire, Gentle Kissing, Healing, Heir of Sabeltann Pinky, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Nightmares, No Dialogue, Nonverbal Communication, Pinky's POV, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Puzzles, Serious Injuries, Sign Language, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25578682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: After the main mast breaks during a battle, injuring Pinky, Pinky loses both vision and hearing. Now he has to heal, and learn to communicate, and how to fight despite it. It's up to Sabeltann, who is the only person aboard with a bed, to help him through it.
Relationships: Kaptein Sabeltann & Pinky, Kaptein Sabeltann/Pinky, Pinky & Benjamin, Pinky & Langemann
Kudos: 2





	write with fire on my skin

Everything is dark. Everything is silent. If it weren't for the fact that Pinky could smell old wood and ink nearby, or feel soft blankets around him - or the solid warmth and weight of a duvet - he would've thought he was asleep.

As it is, this is a tad more worrying. He remembers the battle – the cannonball that had gone flying just past him, and the pirate whose hand he'd nearly freed from his body. And then that loud boom, and the creaking of the mainmast as it fell, and then pain, and pain, and screaming.

And then nothing, before he woke here.

He tries to sit up. He tries to blink, to rub his eyes. He tries to call out – can feel his throat working, and words forming, but he can't hear them. He tries to rub his ears. Someone approaches him, and he flinches away from them, having no idea who they are. He's crying, tears rolling fat and warm down his cheeks, the to-him silent sobs ripping at his throat.

Someone touches his shoulder, and it feels familiar, but he still doesn't know who it is, and he's too hysterical to think about it. He can't hear. He can't hear. He can't _see!_

And then there's a new touch, gentle, at the back of his hand. Pinky stills; he remembers, before the battle, his captain pulling him aside and very sternly telling him to _'be careful, or else!_ ', stating he had an important mission for him if he performed well. Sabeltann had touched him like that, then, seemingly without thinking about it – fingers light against his skin.

Pinky hiccups, _captain_?, though he can't hear it himself. When the hand moves, he inhales sharply, trying to follow it – but it only shifts places, now cradling his face – nodding it carefully.

Pinky bursts into sobs again, forgetting all his manners – Sabeltann is here, _Sabeltann is here_ – and he clutches at Sabeltann's arms, his wrists, his hands – needing someone, _anyone_ – and Sabeltann, strangely enough, doesn't move away.

 _What happened_? Pinky manages to choke out, in-between gasps for air, and he hopes it's intelligible.

Sabeltann moves his hands – there's a change in weight, a dip in the bed Pinky's in, and he realizes Sabeltann must've sat down. Lightly, Sabeltann draws a cross over Pinky's ears – and then his eyes.

 _Blind_ , says Pinky, _blind, and deaf. Permanent?_

When Sabeltann nods his head again, Pinky can't honestly say he's surprised. It does not mean it hurts any less. He breathes deeply a few times, drawing in, out - inhaling, exhaling. The tears thankfully cease. He asks about his injuries - he can feel bandages around his wrists and legs, and his chest aches - to which a new set of hands appear. Now, calmer and with the reassurance that he's with trusted people, Pinky recognizes the scent and touch as Langemann.

 _Dad_ , he asks, and Sabeltann - still with a hand on Pinky's chin - nods his head again.

Langemann takes one of Pinky's hands, tracing shapes over his palm. It takes a few moments, and then Pinky realizes he's spelling letters. He sounds them out, one by one, Sabeltann nodding or shaking his head whenever he gets one right or wrong. _Broken_ , Langemann spells, and then he gently touches Pinky's left wrist. _Cut_ , he continues and traces a barely-felt pattern on the bandages on his right arm, his shoulder, his ankles. _Sprained_ , and that one takes a while to decipher, but Langemann manages to get it across before tapping Pinky's left foot. _Scarred -concussion - broken - ribs._

Pinky swallows. It would explain his ache. _What about my lungs_? he asks, hoping it sounds alright, _are they okay_?

After a brief pause, Sabeltann nods his head. His touch has moved from Pinky's chin to his shoulder, though still there - a constant reminder of his presence. Pinky finds he's surprisingly grateful for it.

Langemann squeezes Pinky's hand for a long moment. Then he writes, shakily, _lucky - alive._

He's lucky to be alive.

 _What happened_? Pinky asks again, more frantic this time. He remembers the mainmast breaking, of course - the wood creaking - but not more than that.

There's a very long pause. Only Langemann's increasingly tight grasp on Pinky's hand and Sabeltann's hand on his shoulder - the dip in the bed - indicate they're still there. After a while, Sabeltann runs his hand down Pinky's arm to take his hand, batting Langemann away. He puts Pinky's hand on his own shoulder - Pinky jumps a little when his hand brushes past Sabeltann's hair - and shrugs.

 _Found - you_ , Langemann spells, when Sabeltann has let go of Pinky's hand and returned his own to Pinky's shoulder. _Passed - out._

 _The mast_ , Pinky says, _it fell_.

Sabeltann nods his head. Langemann spells _You – under - we - worried._ A rather long pause - his fingers, pressed against Pinky's palm tremble. _Thought - dead._

Pinky's quiet, trying to take it in. Sabeltann's gentle touch - Langemann's trembling - the darkness, and the silence, and all the information. He swallows, licks his lips - _what now?_

Yeah. What now? What use is he to the crew now? He's heard of blind pirates, sometimes deaf, but never both at once. Maybe if he's given enough time, he can adjust, but - he doesn't _know._ They would probably all be better off just leaving him in Abra as soon as they can, to not waste resources on him. Oh, and things had been going so _well_! Sabeltann had even had that special mission for him. He'll never be able to do that now.

 _Rest_ , Langemann spells in Pinky's hand, firm and harsh. _You - rest_.

Sabeltann nods Pinky's head, once, then gently pushes at his shoulders until he's lying down. He takes Pinky's hand as well, and also spells, _rest_ , before he hovers his hand along Pinky's chest until he reaches his face, brushing some hair away from his eyes. _Call - if - problem_ , he proceeds to spell. _Will - come._

 _Okay,_ Pinky whispers, and lets them leave. He feels the vibrations of their movements in the wall his shoulder is pressed up against. Their footsteps - Langemann's light tread, Sabeltann's confident stride - the door opening, closing.

Pinky lies in the darkness and tries to sleep, alone with his thoughts.

*

Not everything is dark. It's one of the first things Pinky really takes note of. He can distinguish shadows from light, though he prefers it when it's darkened around him. The low lighting in the room had made this fact harder to realize, but the sun's natural rotation and the door sometimes opening and closing cast shadows and light in ways Pinky soon figures out how to decipher.

After a while in the room, the suffocating loneliness and silence become too much, and Pinky tries exploring. He knows he's yet on the Grim Lady - the gentle rocking of the ship is enough of a reminder for that - and as far as he knows, there's only one room with a bed aboard. However, he's not too keen on drawing premature conclusions - and even though his left foot is sprained and his wrist broken, he manages to push himself up in a seated position. He explores the bed with shaking hands, tracing the mattress - the headboard - the wooden pillars.

He's been in here enough times to recognize the bed, even if he can't see it, and he sighs to himself. Sabeltann's cabin. Of course.

Well - if nothing else, it explains why Sabeltann is his most frequent visitor. The door opens while Pinky sits like this, and he looks over - though, of course, he sees nothing. His hand, still touching the wooden pillar of the bed, tingles with the faint vibrations of someone walking across the floor. He calls out a greeting, though he's sure he must sound confused to hell and back.

He recognizes Sabeltann's presence when he sits next to him on the bed and relaxes immensely. Benjamin had been in earlier but had no way to communicate. It'd been... awkward. _Captain_ , he says, relieved. He takes the quick double-tap on his shoulder to mean yes, and then Sabeltann reaches for his hand.

_How - are - you._

Pinky admits that he's a bit bored, but is otherwise fine - have they drugged him with something? He barely feels any pain.

Sabeltann's hand, hovering over his, shakes. It takes Pinky a moment to realize he's laughing. _No - pain -?_

Oh, well, not exactly. Pinky grimaces - there's still that dull ache in his chest, and his broken wrist twinges whenever he moves his hand - and the cuts scattered across his body (he's felt the bandages) throb at random times. When Sabeltann spells, _little - pain -?_ Pinky nods, grateful at the understanding.

Before Sabeltann can start spelling again, Pinky asks, _where do you sleep_?

There's a long pause. Sabeltann's grip on Pinky's wrist tightens.

The realization is cold and hard. _You haven't slept,_ Pinky concludes, and he's not sure what his tone is like, but he hopes it's disappointed.

_Not - yet._

_Where will you sleep?_ Pinky asks.

Sabeltann puts Pinky's hand on his shoulder and shrugs. Then he spells out, almost carefree, _Skalken - potato - pile -?_

Pinky blinks, then snorts - then breaks out into full-on laughter, hiccuping with the force of it, gasping for air in-between loud chuckles and sharp pain from his ribs. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs - Sabeltann's hand on his throughout it all, and Pinky can't be sure, but it feels like he's laughing, too.

 _Chair - here,_ Sabeltann eventually spells, when Pinky stills, unconsciously leaning into and towards Sabeltann's warmth. _Can - sleep - watch - over - you._

Pinky swallows. He feels his cheeks heat up and turns his face, trying to hide the blush. _You don't have to do that_ , he mutters.

Sabeltann spells, harsh, his finger digging into Pinky's palm, _yes - I - do_ \- _you - hurt - I -_

He stops, hesitating. Pinky waits, tilting his head. When Sabeltann continues, it's gentler - lighter. _I - care._

Pinky doesn't know how to respond to that, so he only swallows, shifting to carefully squeeze Sabeltann's fingers. He whispers a quiet thank-you, uncertain if Sabeltann hears it or not.

There's a long pause, and then Sabeltann wrenches his fingers free. Before Pinky has the time to feel bad about it, Sabeltann turns his hand over again. It takes a moment for Pinky to realize he's spelling again. _You - bored -?_

Pinky nods. _It's_ , he says, and stops, looking for the right word. _Lonely_ , he finally settles on. Sabeltann's fingers press against his palm, unmoving.

 _You - cannot - move_ , he spells, after another pause. _Because - hurt._ He taps twice on Pinky's wrist; yes; then traces a question mark.

Pinky taps twice in return. _It's frustrating,_ he admits.

Another pause, and then Sabeltann lets go of Pinky's hand, standing from the bed. Panic, raw and trembling, grips Pinky and drags him under. He can't be alone - not again, not _again_ , it's so _lonely_ and _silent_ and he can't, he _can't -_

 _Don't leave me_ , he blurts, reaching frantically for Sabeltann, though he has no clue where he's gone. And he can feel his voice breaking when he whispers, _please._

Sabeltann gently touches his outstretched hand, trailing his fingers over Pinky's before slowly spelling, _not - leaving - will - return._

Oh, great, now he's gone and embarrassed himself. He nods, wanting to apologize, but not sure how to. He sits, using his good hand - the one Sabeltann and Langemann have been tracing on - to pick at the bedsheet. It's soft. Silk, most likely - but Pinky hasn't had enough encounters with the fabric to know for sure.

Sabeltann returns, climbing into the bed. It feels like he's not using his hands for support, which is odd - he'd done so before - but Pinky doesn't ask, just does his best to shuffle out of the way. Sabeltann starts moving about - he takes the pillow Pinky had been unknowingly leaning against - then touches light fingers to Pinky's shoulder, running his hand down to Pinky's palm, where he spells, _rest - wall - pillows - cushion._

Pinky frowns, cocking his head. He tries to repeat it out loud to have it make some kind of sense. _You want me to rest against the wall? And pillows will cushion it?_

Sabeltann taps twice in Pinky's palm. _Will - guide_ \- _you._

It takes some stumbled shifting, Sabeltann gentle as he guides him and Pinky careful as he moves, lest he disturbs his wounds. _Good_ , Sabeltann spells against Pinky's shoulder. _OK -?_

Pinky squirms around a bit again, sinking a bit into the pillows. _Yeah,_ he says, _okay._

 _Good,_ Sabeltann spells once more. Then he moves next to Pinky, pulling the duvet up to Pinky's good hand to let him wrap it around himself. Once Pinky has done so - a tad confused, he'll admit, but not terribly so - Sabeltann sits, his shoulder - Pinky assumes it's his shoulder - leaning against Pinky's.

 _What are you -_ Pinky squeaks, but Sabeltann puts a calming hand on Pinky's knee.

 _Not - leaving_ , he spells, after reaching for Pinky's hand. _You - rest - I - work - not - leaving._

Pinky's fingers curl around Sabeltann's. Sabeltann brings his hand closer, carefully pressing Pinky's fingers to a hard surface. Taking the hint, Pinky cautiously explores it - finding it to be an opened book, possibly a notebook, judging by the quality of the paper.

 _Are you writing_? he asks, hoping he's not smudging ink all over the page. He can't feel any liquid, so probably not. Besides, Sabeltann would've snatched his hand away if he were. Sabeltann taps his hand twice. _But - but the ink?_

 _Is - OK,_ Sabeltann spells, with an absolute finality to it that makes Pinky's heart ache.

 _What if I fall asleep_? Pinky asks, because he is a bit drowsy, and Sabeltann is warm.

 _Is - OK,_ Sabeltann repeats, fiercer now. _Rest._ He lets go of Pinky's hand, then starts moving his arms about.

Pinky, curious, puts his hand on Sabeltann's elbow. Sabeltann stops moving. _Can I do this?_ Pinky asks, hesitant. _I feel you moving..._

Sabeltann taps his hand twice, a barely-there touch, something hesitant to the touch.

 _If you don't want me to, it's fine,_ Pinky hurries to say, already pulling away and also considering if he might be able to throw himself out the window.

Sabeltann snatches his hand. He taps a hard _yes_ on it, then places it firmly back on his elbow. _Is - OK_ , he spells, across the back of Pinky's hand. _Is. OK._ His fingers linger, pressing, and Pinky's breath hitches.

 _Okay,_ he whispers, and squeezes Sabeltann's elbow. _Okay._

Slowly, Sabeltann goes back to work, Pinky's hand light on his elbow. Eventually, from the gentle repetitive motions of Sabeltann writing, Pinky starts dozing off. Before he quite catches himself, and because he has no idea how close he's actually been, his head falls onto Sabeltann's shoulder. Pinky startles, sitting straight so fast his ribs yowl in a complaint. He apologizes hurriedly, but Sabeltann spells a fast _is_ then taps _yes_ , which Pinky figures mean _it's okay._

 _You're certain?_ he asks, even as he tentatively lowers his head again, heart hammering in his chest.

An exasperated double-tap.

Pinky mumbles something weak in self-defence, not sure what he's trying to say or if Sabeltann can even hear him. Beneath his cheek, Sabeltann's shoulder shakes, and Pinky realizes, pleased, that he's chuckling. _Is - yes,_ he spells again, lighter this time. _Is - yes._

Pinky falls asleep curled up into Sabeltann's side as he works, hand on his arm and head on his shoulder, anchored and more at peace than he'd thought he could be.

*

Pinky wakes slowly, blinking sleep out of his eyes – the darkness fading to shadows and light. He stirs, realizes he's lying down rather than sitting up and comes to the hasty – heartwarming – conclusion that Sabeltann must've moved him sometime last night. Was it night? He has no idea – it looks like it might be morning now, judging by the levels of light in the room. Pinky pulls down the duvet from his face to squint at the light, trying to get a better thought of what time it is – just in time for something to block off the sun.

A hand touches the top of his head; he startles a little, before settling down with the knowledge that it can't be anyone but Sabeltann. _Captain,_ he greets him.

Sabeltann ruffles his hair lightly, and Pinky blinks in surprise at the motion. It's the strangest kind of hair-ruffle he's ever felt. Sabeltann does it again, though, and it clicks. He's not ruffling his hair, he's _waving_. It's a gesture of greeting! _Good morning to you, too_ , he says, amused and hoping the words don't croak as much as it feels like they do. _Are you waving? How did you think of that?_

Sabeltann doesn't remove his hand from Pinky's hair, but he stills moving. Hesitating.

Pinky blurts, _did you sleep_? before Sabeltann can settle on an answer, though, to which Sabeltann laughs. The bed dips, the shadows flicker, and then Sabeltann reaches for Pinky's hand, tapping twice first, then spelling, _I – should – ask – that._

 _You didn't_ , Pinky says, matter-of-factly. He trails off, frowning at where he knows his hand is. The spelling and tracing process is horrendously slow – surely, there must be another way to communicate? He asks so, out loud, and Sabeltann twitches a bit, then taps, uncertain, twice. When Pinky asks for more details, Sabeltann taps once – spelling _no_ , right afterwards, when Pinky frowns in confusion – before spelling, _food._

Fine. Pinky'll eat first. But he won't be happy about it. Sabeltann disappears briefly, then reappears a few moments afterwards, cautiously placing a plate in Pinky's lap. He guides Pinky's hands to the plate's sides, slowly tracing them around the edge before letting him find the cutlery. _Is – mashed – potatoes – fish,_ he spells, against Pinky's bare shoulder.

Pinky makes an idle comment about how the times must be good for mashed potatoes to be a thing aboard, but the words die in his throat as he clutches what he figures is the fork. How does one go about eating one's food when one can't see it? He'll have to feel out where everything is on his plate – or, God forbid, have Sabeltann _feed_ him – but then he risks shoving his hand into a pile of mashed potatoes. And Sabeltann is watching, he's sure.

Sabeltann, apparently, must've thought along the same lines. He spells, w _hat – want – me- do -?_

The words are whispered, but Pinky thinks Sabeltann might hear them anyway, with how close he is. _Can you look away, please?_

Two taps in quick succession, then a spelled, _not – left – am – in - room – not – looking._ Then Sabeltann stands and disappears from the bed.

Pinky takes a deep breath and braves his plate.

*

He does end up smearing mashed potatoes all over his hands, but more than half does, at least, end up in his mouth, which is a relief. The fish is slippery, and he struggles with it for a bit, before finally giving up and just using his fingers. He _really_ hopes Sabeltann isn't looking.

When Pinky finally proclaims he's done, it actually takes a few moments before Sabeltann waves over his shoulder. He must've been at the desk – writing or reading, presumably. _Do you have a napkin or… something_? Pinky asks, a bit embarrassed. The potatoes on his hands are sticky.

Sabeltann makes a scratching motion on Pinky's back (he spells _funny – am – laughing_ when Pinky voices his confusion), then taps twice before disappearing again. Soon after, he removes the plate from Pinky's lap, pressing some cloth-napkins against his fingers. _Careful_ , he spells, _hand – hurt._

Pinky rolls his eyes but smiles, nodding, as he gently wipes off the food on his skin. His broken wrist makes it somewhat harder – thank God it's not his dominant one. When Sabeltann plucks the cloth from his fingers, Pinky lets him, sitting still as Sabeltann wipes at his chin and chest.

 _Thank you_ , Pinky mutters, through his heavy flush. _You promised better communication_?

There's a long pause. Only the dip in the bed speaks of Sabeltann still being in the room. Finally, he taps twice, shuffling around on the bed until he sits in front of Pinky. He spells _yes_ , then taps twice, then _no_ and one tap, then _do – not – know_ and three taps, and finally, _I – understand_ , accompanied by four taps in quick succession.

Pinky tilts his head, then moves his own hand to quickly tap four times against Sabeltann's fingers. Sabeltann taps twice enthusiastically.

The lighting in the room changes in what Pinky has learned means the door has opened, and he turns his head towards it, hoping to maybe see a silhouette or something along those lines. No such luck – he sits still, not wanting to speak up and potentially interrupt an already on-going conversation.

 _Lang_ , Sabeltann absently spells in Pinky's hand, and Pinky inclines his head, grateful for the update. _Will – be – back_ , Sabeltann spells. _Am – needed._

Pinky taps a quick _yes,_ then sits back in the bed as Sabeltann moves, then stands, and leaves the room.

He waits patiently, repeating the tapped patterns on his own palm. No, yes, don't know, I understand. Tap, tap, tap against his bandages, his arm, his shoulder. Tap, tap against his knee. Tap, tap, tap, tap across his chest, his cheeks. No, yes, don't know, I understand.

What's the difference between _yes_ and _I understand_? It seems easier to just use _yes_ as _I understand –_ it takes only half the time. Then again, in some cases, maybe you just… don't agree to what's being said? And don't want to give someone the impression that you do?

Kind of like sacrificing someone for a greater picture, Pinky muses. Not something he would ever do himself, but a sentiment he understands. _We have to sacrifice someone, or the Lady will sink_ , for example. Or, no. He'd probably tap no for that. A harsh, fierce no. He tries tapping that out on his thigh, nodding, pleased, when it feels angry enough.

Eventually, the door opens again. Pinky tilts his head, placing his hand on the bedpost to try and feel for vibrations from the floor. They're weak, and barely there, but he thinks he might be able to learn to read them better with time. He hopes so – it would be nice to know who was approaching before they touched him.

As it is, he recognizes Sabeltann's tread before he can sit on the bed, asking, _captain?_ to be sure. Sabeltann taps twice on his head, then settles down, taking Pinky's offered hand. _Idiots,_ he spells. He doesn't elaborate.

Pinky knows the crew well enough to not have to ask. _Are there more signs?_ he wonders instead. His voice cracks over one of the words - he can feel it at the back of his throat.

Sabeltann taps twice, then makes the waving gesture over Pinky's hand. _Greeting_ , he spells, and Pinky nods. A double-tap follows as an answer to Pinky's asked, _does it mean bye, as well?_

What follows is a long string of signs and words - Pinky learns _sorry_ (rubbing a circle with a closed fist) _,_ and _food_ (tapping Pinky's chin), and _ship_ (a curved hand tapping twice). Pinky asks if the signs can be incorporated into conversations, rather than be dunked onto him all at once, and Sabeltann agrees.

They come up with signs for different names. Langemann becomes two fingers brushed across skin, Pinky becomes three fingers held close together in a circle. Skalken becomes a hand waving in front of Pinky's nose, so he can feel the air against his face (Sabeltann explains it means "smelly," and Pinky laughs so hard the pain becomes unbearable). Sabeltann, or rather, captain, takes them a bit to figure out.

 _Isn't there a sign for captain?_ Pinky asks, and Sabeltann taps once. That's pretty odd, all things considered, but Pinky doesn't question it. Eventually – and it's Sabeltann's idea, this one – they settle on a light scratch by three fingers, followed by an upside-down V. Pinky figures it just means 'Sabeltann,' and asks if there's another sign before it to signify 'captain,' to which Sabeltann is silent for a long while. Then he spells, _captain_ , tracing the top of a half-circle and doing the same upside-down V right after.

Pinky mentally translates it to Captain Tooth, but he doesn't mention that, only quenches a smile before it can be more than a twitch across his features. _You know a lot about this_ , he comments.

Sabeltann taps a hesitant yes on Pinky's wrist, then sits there, fingers lingering on Pinky's skin. It's like he wants to say something else – without quite knowing what. Pinky, who's been inches away from confessing to him a few times in the past, knows the feeling well. Then Sabeltann spells with vigour, going so fast Pinky only barely manages to keep up. _This – not – end – you – will – flourish._

Pinky sits still, fingers twitching against Sabeltann's. _How can you say that?_ he asks, and maybe the words come out too silent, and maybe they don't, and maybe Pinky doesn't care at all. _I'm worthless aboard now, what good am I? I'll have to live of charity in a hut somewhere in Abra, and I'll never –_

 _No,_ Sabeltann taps, fast and hard on Pinky's knee, _no, no, no, no._

Pinky shuts his mouth and swallows, swallows, swallows – the lump in his throat lessening, though the tears in his eyes burn.

One tap – _say – that._ Pinky's sign – _will –_ and he moves his fingers in a pattern like an explosion or an expanding circle _._ Pinky takes it to mean flourish.

 _How?_ Pinky whispers. _How will I ever?_

 _Pinky – no – broken._ A pause; Sabeltann is squeezing Pinky's hand so hard his fingers are starting to tingle. The sign for captain _– teach – Pinky._ Another pause; Sabeltann's fingers tremble. He spells, harder than is strictly necessary, _Pinky – will – flourish -!_

Pinky sniffles, but when something wet falls onto his palm, it's not his. He startles, then gapes – one droplet – two droplets – three. _Are you crying, captain_? he asks, and Sabeltann hurries to tap once on his hand, brushing aside the tears. Pinky, grasped by some courage, traces his hand along Sabeltann's arm, up to his shoulders. They're shaking. _You are_ , Pinky concludes, more than just a little shocked.

A double-tap, absent and uncertain. Pinky doesn't know what's wrong, and he's not sure how to ask – he doesn't know how Sabeltann would like to be comforted, either. He does, however, know how _he_ likes to be comforted – and this is how Pinky finds himself shuffling forward on the bed, tentatively reaching around Sabeltann's shoulders to pull him into an uncertain hug.

Sabeltann's breath hitches – and isn't that strange, that Pinky can feel it in his movements but not hear a single sound – before he returns the hug, not as tight as Pinky would've preferred, but as tight as is probably possible due to his wounds.

It's not sobbing Sabeltann is doing, Pinky realizes – this isn't helpless overflowing of emotions, but rather a muted, haphazard confusion.

 _Pinky – will – flourish,_ Sabeltann spells, over and over again across Pinky's back, getting lighter and lighter each time. When he eventually pulls away, he rubs _sorry_ on Pinky's shoulder before settling back into his previous position.

Pinky, still leaning into his space, spells, _is – ok,_ on Sabeltann's wrist. _Is – ok._ Then, because he's worried, _is – captain – ok -?_

Sabeltann laughs softly, a bare twitch of his elbow that Pinky can't attribute to anything else. _Captain - ok,_ he spells. Then, across the back of Pinky's hand, _flourish._

Pinky licks his lips, then sighs. He nods. _Okay_ , he says. _Teach me._

*

Langemann visits. He holds Pinky's hand, spelling slower than Sabeltann, yet spelling nonetheless - _how - are - you -?_

Pinky knows Sabeltann is still in the room - he hasn't seen the door open or close. He answers out loud, anyway. _Just fine_ , he admits. _In pain, of course, but my body's mostly shut down._ He chuckles a bit helplessly. _I'm told I'll survive._

Langemann squeezes his hand. _You - will._ There's a pause. Pinky doesn't speak; Langemann's still hovering over his hand. _I - sorry - could - not - help._

Pinky smiles sadly. _It's okay_ , he says. _It's not your fault._

*

By the time most of Pinky's wounds have healed, the whole crew has visited at least once. Several of them were pretty stumped they couldn't properly communicate with Pinky, but Sabeltann translated for them on those occasions. After a few of them had come, illiterate, to Pinky's side, one of them returns. It's after Pinky's ribs has healed well enough for no bandages to be wrapped around his chest, so he can wear his shirt again - he's picked straight up from the bed and twirled in the air, and he yelps in surprise (he's safe, he's completely safe, Sabeltann is at his desk, but _still)._ The yelp morphs into a surprised laugh, however, when he recognizes Benjamin's tangled hair and his rough stubble. Benjamin's name comes bubbling out of the laughter, and Benjamin stills, lowering him back onto the bed.

And Benjamin, who Pinky _knows_ has never been interested in learning to read, begins to spell in his hand.

_Yes - how - you - know - was - me -?_

Pinky explains his hair, hastily, then says, _I didn't know you could write!_

Benjamin starts spelling Langemann, and Pinky gently interrupts him. He explains Langemann's sign, then the yes, no, I understand, and don't know taps. This will be far easier if Benjamin can remember and utilize them.

Tracing a smiling face in Pinky's hand, Benjamin taps, _I understand._ Then, _Langemann - taught - me._

Pinky smiles, brushing his fingers across Benjamin's knuckles. _I thought you didn't want to learn?_

There's a brief pause. _You - worth - learning - for._

Pinky, blind and deaf and hurt, sits in Sabeltann's bed and stares at something he can't see. The warmth from Benjamin's statement creeps through him, on a similar wavelength to Sabeltann hugging him, or Sabeltann's 'you will flourish.' _Thank you_ , Pinky whispers, and then he sets to teaching the few signs he and Sabeltann have figured out.

*

It's been nearly three weeks, and Pinky thinks he might just combust. If it weren't for the conversations with Sabeltann - and whomever of the crew decided to visit - he would probably have died of boredom after the first two days. 'Bored' was, as a result, one of the early signs Sabeltann taught him.

Relaying the newfound signs to the rest of the crew is a slow process, and Pinky often has to remind them that a sign exists for a word they are trying to spell. Langemann is the fastest learner, thank God for that, followed quickly by Benjamin.

(Benjamin, for the record, has joked that they're going to be the most educated pirate crew sailing on the seven seas before long. Sabeltann, who'd been sitting back-to-back with Pinky, had barked a laugh.)

Even Skalken is doing his best to learn how to write (he is also the only person Pinky can recognize immediately on smell alone), though that is the slowest process of them all. He's spelled _hi,_ though, and seems pretty intent on finding a sign for 'rat,' though Sabeltann so far has denied him that. Pinky finds the whole thing hilarious and refuses to help Skalken in trying to convince Sabeltann it's necessary.

Pinky finds that the more signs he shares with Sabeltann, the more he prefers to talk through them. He keeps being worried that his voice doesn't relay the emotions he wants - signing or spelling eradicates that issue, thankfully. Some of the crewmembers are slow to pick up on signs, making it easier to do a mixture of signing and talking with them, and with others, he has to rely entirely on talking (Lech, in particular, finds it a bit troubling to spell with his two hook-hands). With Sabeltann, though, he ends up almost only spelling.

Sabeltann doesn't question it more than once. _Pinky - no - talk -?_

He spells back, _can - no - hear - Pinky - don't know - tone._ He pauses, marking the ending of the sentence. _Bother - captain -?_

Sabeltann taps once, instantly, fingers light on Pinky's wrist. They're huddled close together like they sometimes are when they're focused on a conversation, Pinky leaning up against the headboard of the bed, Sabeltann cross-legged before him. _Pinky - voice - ok_ , he signs. _But - captain - no - bother. Pinky - choice._

Pinky signs a quick 'thank you,' then mulls over if he's going to say what he _wants_ to say or if he's going to keep his mouth shut.

Sabeltann signs, _Pinky -?_

Yes, well, that settles it. _Embarrassing,_ Pinky signs back, _don't know - what - saying._

Sabeltann takes his hand, curling his fingers around Pinky's. He squeezes lightly, four times in quick succession. _I understand._

 _Thank you,_ Pinky whispers.

*

 _Bored_ , Pinky proclaims, at the mark of the third week. Sabeltann has just returned from eating in the mess, bringing with him a plate of food for Pinky. Pinky _would_ rather eat with the rest of the crew, but it's hard enough walking around with one and a half foot feat a broken wrist _on land_ \- attempting the same feat aboard a ship on open sea? He'd break his neck before he arrived safely.

Still. He has to walk _sometime_ , and he tells Sabeltann as much, signing it onto the back of his hand even as Pinky accepts the plate. _Pinky - no- bed - whole - life_ , he signs.

Sabeltann chuckles. _Been - three - weeks - impatient - rat._

 _No - let - Skalken - see,_ Pinky signs, grinning. _Pinky - still - walk - bored._

 _Food - first_ , Sabeltann signs. _Then - walk_. The next word is insistent and hard. _Careful!_

Pinky taps, 'I understand,' mouth full of food.

After he's eaten, he pointedly clears his throat, waiting for Sabeltann to wave across his shoulder before he signs, _walk!_

Sabeltann taps yes on his head, then starts helping him up. It's a slow process - the whole thing is a slow process - beginning with Pinky tentatively trying to put weight on his foot.

It holds.

 _Ok,_ Pinky spells, on what he can reach of Sabeltann's back. His good arm is wrapped around his torso - though the balance is off, he'd rather have poor balance than no way to sign.

 _Good,_ Sabeltann signs back. _Try - alone?_

Pinky, who'd only moments ago been excited about walking about, is suddenly hesitant about ploughing his way through an unmapped room where the floor buckles beneath his feet.

Sabeltann adds, _captain - here - no - leave - captain - have - Pinky._

Pinky translates that to, _I'm not leaving. I have you,_ and feels his face heat up.

 _Try - alone_ , he signs, and Sabeltann slips out of his reach.

It's far from easy. It's one of the hardest things Pinky has ever done. Every step sends a throb of dull pain up his calf. He walks with his fingers splayed out and held away from his body in an attempt to 'see' his surroundings. One step at a time, one foot before the other - limping a bit, Pinky notes, both due to the sprain and the cuts, but otherwise fine.

The floor shifts beneath his feet, the Lady likely rolling over a wave, and Pinky lets out a yelp, stumbling to find his footing again. _I'm fine_ , he blurts, _I'm fine, just surprised, I can do this!_

There's no response from Sabeltann, which Pinky is surprised to find himself relieved by. He can do this. He _can._

He takes another step forward.

He must.

*

One day, Sabeltann leaves the room with the message that he'll be back soon. Pinky naps a bit while he's gone, and gladly gossips with Benjamin when he pops by – though, when Pinky asks, Benjamin can't say where Sabeltann is. Eventually, Benjamin too has to leave, and Pinky goes back to sitting in silence in Sabeltann's bed.

He spends a lot of time mapping out the place. He hasn't dared do it when Sabeltann has been in the room, but now he shuffles around in the bed to get a feel of how big it is. He counts pillows, folds the duvet, tries to find out what kind of fabric the various blankets are made of. Finds patterns carved into the wooden pillars on the bed and traces them with his fingers – creating mental images of what they might look like. He thinks a lot - about nothing in particular and everything else, as well. He traces every sign he can remember against his thigh, pleased by the vastly enlarged vocabulary he now has.

Thankfully, Sabeltann returns before Pinky can start contemplating practicing various knots with the bedsheets. He waves against Pinky's shoulder; Pinky greets him, then asks, while signing against his own skin, _where have you been_?

(The signs, for the record, are, _where – captain – be -?_ )

 _Land_ , Sabeltann spells, on Pinky's shoulder. He's silent for a moment, then swipes his fingers across the back of Pinky's hand, again spelling, _land_.

 _Why,_ signs Pinky, and repeats the swiped fingers. He's grinning, he realizes, but does nothing to curb the smile. What can he say? Sabeltann's explanations for a lot of the signs they come up with are over-the-top or ridiculous (or both).

 _And_ , signs Sabeltann, and spells out _dirt._

Just to make sure he's following, Pinky asks, out loud, _does it mean both land and dirt_?

Sabeltann taps twice. _Brush – away_ , he signs, then spells, _dirt._

Huh. For once, an explanation that makes sense. Pinky taps, _I understand_ , then repeats his earlier question. _Where were you?_

 _Land,_ Sabeltann signs again. _Pinky – bored – captain – have – help._ He places something hard and solid against Pinky's chest, and Pinky fumbles with it for a moment before he's holding it correctly. Eagerly he explores it – help for his boredom! Finally! – surprised to find that it's a wooden chest, of some kind. There aren't any patterns that he can feel, so he quickly discards the thought that the chest itself is the help.

When he opens the chest and investigates the insides, the pieces fall into place – literally. There are different blocks and parts of wood in the chest, some shaped like balls, some like squares, others like stars or spikes. A typical puzzle with large, wooden pieces is also found there.

 _Puzzles_? Pinky asks, delighted. He's always been fond of games like these, though he rarely had time or option to sit down and actually work on them. Trying to figure them out now, by touch alone, is going to be a challenging but rewarding task.

 _Yes_ , taps Sabeltann. _Will – help -?_

 _Will – help -!_ Pinky returns, and he's sure he's beaming, but he can't help it. Puzzles! Wooden puzzles that fit well in his hand... he's already picked out the one he wants to solve first - a star-like shape, smooth and with pieces sticking out every here and there. He rattles them a bit, pleased at the slight give. Yes. This definitely will help.

*

After a week of practiced walking, Pinky is more than comfortable with getting around the cabin without aid. He's considered the possibility of a cane - while he can learn the layout of the ship with ease, already knowing how to navigate most of her by heart, furniture and rope and sails and items can still change places. He mentions it off-handedly to Sabeltann, who promptly promises to see what he can do about it.

Pinky spends long hours of the night curled up on his side in Sabeltann's bed, knowing Sabeltann sits in the armchair over by the large windows. He spends the time thinking. It won't be long before his wrist fully heals, Langemann has told him. A healed wrist means Pinky can start working properly aboard the ship again, and he isn't sure if he's ready to face that.

There's something so overly strange about this whole situation - something so terribly _unreal_ about being placed in Sabeltann's cabin, in Sabeltann's bed, under Sabeltann's watchful eye. It's not a complete turnaround, but it's still a surprise, and Pinky isn't sure what to think of it.

On the one hand, the shock of it makes it feel almost like a dream. It might be one of the reasons Pinky still hasn't truly let the knowledge of his newfound disability settle in (which, for the record, Pinky isn't sure whether is a good thing or not). On the other hand, Pinky is really enjoying the conversations he's having with everyone's favourite resident pirate captain - as well as the obvious physical contact, and the semi closeness unfurling like a flower between them.

 _Why are you doing this?_ Pinky audibly asks, one day, because he can't keep losing sleep wondering about it.

Sabeltann, who's reading a book in his chair - Pinky sits on the ground beside him with a nearly-solved puzzle in his hands, knees knocking into Sabeltann's legs every now and then - traces a question mark against Pinky's head.

 _This,_ Pinky repeats. _This whole..._ He bites his lip, uncertain if he's willing to say what he wants to say. Sabeltann turns in his chair, then stands - Pinky tilts his head to try and follow his silhouette with his gaze, then blinks in surprise when Sabeltann sits in front of him and takes his hand.

_Pinky -?_

And Pinky gathers the courage to just say it. _This whole caring thing. Why are you doing it? You never cared for me before_.

The silence drags on. Eventually, Sabeltann starts signing. _I understand - Pinky_ \- he hesitates, but hovers in the way he tends to do when he's not yet finished - then settles on _pain._

Pinky blinks, then shifts his hand, drawing a little question mark against Sabeltann's fingers.

 _Captain - had - accident - young_ , Sabeltann signs, and there is still hesitation to the words. He's signing, though, and Pinky sits a little bit straighter, focusing hard on Sabeltann's fingers tracing in his palm. _Lost - eyes - first - and - ears._

As Pinky sometimes has to do, in their long conversations, he repeats the sentences out loud and waits for a yes or no from Sabeltann. _You were in an accident when you were young_? he asks, and then, when Sabeltann taps twice, _you lost your vision first, and then later your hearing, as well?_

Another two taps.

 _That's how you know the signs_ , Pinky realizes, and clutches at Sabeltann's hand. _But - but you're not blind?_ Hope surges through him, bright and blinding, and he blurts, _is there a cure?_

Sabeltann leans forward and rubs _sorry_ on Pinky's chest. The hope immediately withers and dies. _No - for - Pinky._

There's no cure. Not for him. What could possibly have cured Sabeltann, then, if not something available to Pinky as well? _What - cured - captain-?_

 _Sea,_ spells Sabeltann, and doesn't explain.

Pinky blinks. _How?_

There's another long pause. Pinky gets the feeling that Sabeltann is telling him something no one else knows, and not only because he hesitates when he continues. _Give - captain - new - better - body._

_Healed - captain -?_

_Yes._

Pinky rubs his fingers over Sabeltann's skin, pondering this. Sabeltann, so pale and ethereal, with his shimmering hair and slitted eyes - it's a body the ocean granted him, as a gift? It makes more sense than is reasonable. Pinky finds himself wondering what he looked like before.

 _So,_ he says, aloud, _it's not because I'm weaker?_ Pinky hesitates, then continues in a softer tone, _I'm not… just… a tool?_

A hard poke directly to Pinky's chest. _No!_ Sabeltann grabs Pinky's hand, signing harshly, _Pinky - no - tool - captain - care._ Sabeltann curls his fingers around Pinky's and squeezes, once, before repeating, c _aptain - care._

Pinky swallows. It's both hard and easy to believe him. Hard because Pinky can't see his expression or body language, and he can, therefore, not judge them. Easy because it's _Sabeltann,_ and he wouldn't do this if he didn't see a good reason to.

So, what's his reason?

 _Why_ , Pinky signs, because he really, _really_ would like to know.

Sabeltann stands, gently tugging on Pinky's hand as he does so. _Come,_ he signs, _sit - chair._ He lets go of Pinky's hand when Pinky's standing as well, tapping the back of Pinky's hand to let Pinky decide whether to use him for guidance or not. Pinky doesn't really need it, but appreciates the gesture for it nonetheless (and if he accepts mostly to touch Sabeltann, then that's his own business).

They sit, Pinky fumbling a bit with an unexpected pillow before settling. He waits for Sabeltann to tap his knee before he offers his hand. _Captain - care_ , Sabeltann opens the conversation with. _But - no - because - Pinky - no - eyes - ears._

The meaning Pinky pulls from it is _I care about you, but it's not because of what happened._

Pinky taps, _I understand._

Sabeltann's fingers are trembling. He's hovering again - his other hand, covering the back of Pinky's hand, shakes.

Pinky curls his fingers around Sabeltann's and says, _you don't have to tell me if you don't want to._ He's _dying_ to know, and Sabeltann can probably tell, but Sabeltann feels so nervous, and Pinky doesn't want to see him in pain.

Sabeltann startles at the first word, then squeezes Pinky's fingers. Hard.

 _Want - tell - Pinky_ , he signs, when he finally lets go. _Don't know - how._

 _Take - time_ , Pinky signs.

Sabeltann starts to sign something, but before he can finish, he comes to an abrupt stop. After a brief pause, he signs _Langemann_ , then, _trouble - captain - return - after._

Pinky nods, letting go of his hand to let him leave. He doesn't look after him, though he frowns down at his hands. He's getting a distinct feeling that Sabeltann is answering the wrong question.

Maybe Pinky's _asking_ the wrong question. There's so much he wants to know - and it doesn't make it easier that their conversations are so slow.

But what else can he ask? How does he make it evident that he's asking for so _much?_ Like - why is Sabeltann so open about caring for him now? Why is he caring at all, beyond the fact that he relates to his pain? Why? _Why_?

The tears are pressing up, but he bites down on them, not knowing if Langemann is still in the cabin or if he's left. Pinky swallows, pressing his right palm to his cheek, then lightly tracing the fading scabs scattered around his eyes and nose. _Right_ , he thinks, using the sensation of the rough skin to ground himself, _right. Time to form questions, then._

*

When Sabeltann returns, it's nighttime, Pinky has migrated over to the bed – finding it far more comfortable than the chairs – and is working on solving a new puzzle. _Captain_ , Pinky greets brightly, pleased to have him back. He's worked out the questions he wants to ask and is hoping to at least _voice_ them before falling asleep.

Sabeltann is by his side nearly immediately, signing _Pinky_ across Pinky's shoulder. And without further ado, Sabeltann falls into bed with such force the springs have Pinky bobbing up and down.

Grinning, Pinky fumbles for his arm – nearly slapping him in the face in the process, if Sabeltann grasping his wrist is any indication – and signs, _crew – cause – problem -?_

 _Always_ , Sabeltann signs back. _Late – why – Pinky – no – sleep -?_

Pinky flushes. _Wait – for – captain_ , he signs, hoping Sabeltann isn't staring too hard at his face. _Have – questions._

The bedsprings start bobbing again as Sabeltann sits up. _About -?_

All the courage Pinky had gathered earlier to ask the questions he'd (in his humble opinion) so masterfully crafted nearly evaporates. He drags it back in time to sign, _about – captain – care._

A moment's silence. _Had – captain – known – Pinky – ask – that – captain – would – return – earlier_ , he signs. Sabeltann starts to get out of bed, but keeps signing, moving across different bodyparts as he stands. _Long – talk – go – bed – talk – there._

Pinky, amused and a bit disoriented at trying to follow the signs up his arm and across his back, asks, _why?_

 _Late_ , Sabeltann signs, and then he disappears for a moment, _should – sleep – but – captain – will – explain._

 _Why_? Pinky repeats.

 _Because – captain – care_ , Sabeltann signs. He disappears for a bit more. _Do – Pinky – sleep – with – this -?_ He plucks at Pinky's shirt, and Pinky laughs a bit at the random question.

 _Maybe,_ he signs, before Sabeltann can retrieve his hand. _Why -?_

Sabeltann pushes aside the duvet and climbs into the bed. _Ready – sleep – in – bed_ , he signs. _Captain – ready – is – Pinky -?_

And it clicks, the fact that Sabeltann is probably sitting with only a nightgown – or possibly, a blouse – before him. And also the fact that Sabeltann is currently folding the duvet over his own lap (Pinky can tell only because they sit so close).

And now Sabeltann is folding the duvet over Pinky's lap, as well, their thighs millimetres apart.

Pinky goes beet red. Then he taps, _yes_.

Sabeltann takes his hand and signs, _good._ A pause, then, _what – Pinky – question -?_

And despite his embarrassment, Pinky turns to Sabeltann, leaning towards him to reply, _why – captain – care -?_

 _Accident,_ Sabeltann signs.

Pinky interrupts him. _Pinky – know – accident – make – captain – (I) understand – no – explain – why – care._

There's a pause. Sabeltann exhales heavily; Pinky feels his breath against his forehead and jerks the slightest bit back, not having realized they were so close. _Pinky – brave – smart – valuable – part – crew._ Sabeltann's breath hitches oddly, and it takes Pinky a moment to realize he must be talking out loud while he's signing. He wishes he knew what he was saying. Most likely, it's just the same as he's spelling. Pinky does that a bit himself – signing while speaking out loud. It makes it easier to catch the meaning behind the detached words of signed conversations.

 _But - Pinky – no – only – valuable – part – crew_ , Pinky signs slowly, hoping to let his confusion through. Another hitched breath. The jerk of Sabeltann's arm signifies it being a soft laugh more than anything else. Sabeltann taps twice. _Will – captain – care – like – captain – care – Pinky – if – part – crew – accident – like – Pinky -?_

A pause, then a single tap, followed by, _don't know._

Pinky bites his cheek. _Why – Pinky – different -?_

Sabeltann's immediate response is _don't know_ , but it comes very fast and is followed by a sigh and a slower, _wrong – it – because – Pinky – was – meant – to – be_ , and here he breaks off from the signing to spell, painstakingly slow compared to the signing, _my – crown – prince._

Pinky's heart stops beating. _What_? he breathes. _What? No, that's not true. I'm not – you can't have –_

Sabeltann's response is harsh and immediate. _Do – not – doubt – captain_ – _know – what – captain – do._ There's a moment's pause, then Sabeltann continues. _Do – Pinky – remember – captain – talk – before – accident -?_

 _Important – mission -?_ Pinky guesses.

 _Yes – mission – was_ , and he breaks off to spell, _coronation._

Pinky's clutching hard at one of Sabeltann's hands, he realizes, and releases his hold a bit. His heart, which has begun beating again, has picked up speed to twice the usual amount. Crown prince? Him? Pinky, who'd struggled so to even be accepted aboard? _Why – Pinky -?_

Sabeltann repeats the words from earlier. _Pinky – brave – smart – valuable – worthy – throne – and – title._

He's flushing scarlet red, at some point he's going to burst aflame – his face feels like it's going to split in half by his wide smile, despite the doubt nestled between his ribs. The doubt, however, is a thick and sickly thing, and it pokes its head forth. _Why – no – say – before -?_

 _Captain – was – testing_ _– since – Pinky – young_ , Sabeltann admits. He's quiet, for a moment, then, _captain – can – no – tell – Pinky – before – now._ Another pause. His hands are twitching something terrible again. He reaches for Pinky's shoulder, signing, _sorry._

The 'sorry' hammers in a dreadful, ice-cold realization. Pinky can't be that – isn't that – not anymore. Not when he can't see or hear – not when he can't even _eat_ without assistance. Pinky's about to sign his own apology but realizes that the spelling of 'crown prince' will take ages. _Good luck finding a new heir_ , he says, and Sabeltann startles again.

He grabs for Pinky's hand. _What – Pinky – mean -?_

 _I can't be that anymore,_ Pinky tries to explain, _can I? Blind and deaf and useless._

The tapped 'no' is so firm it's sure to bruise, and a hard exhale accompanies it. _Pinky – still –_ he draws a three-spiked crown in Pinky's palm – _no – no – eyes – no – ears – stop – that._ Sabeltann exhales again, then shifts closer – he pushes at Pinky's hair, then signs, fingers dancing, _Pinky – will – flourish -!_ across Pinky's _forehead._

Pinky's breath hitches, and he screws his eyes shut, hoping to keep the tears at bay. He wants to believe it. He _has_ to believe it, or else he'll succumb to something he fears naming. _Will you help?_ he gasps out, and he can _feel_ his own tears in his voice, even if he can't hear them. _Will you teach me how?_

 _Yes,_ Sabeltann taps, _of course._

And Pinky draws one deep breath, another, and another. If he speaks again, now, he's going to start crying. Instead, he reaches out, fumbling for Sabeltann's shoulder – surprised when his hand meets skin, rather than cloth. He must've aimed wrong and hit Sabeltann's collarbone instead, though Pinky doesn't take time to think about it, instead signing, _why_.

Sabeltann can't answer against Pinky's hand, lingering by his own shoulder, so he keeps signing against Pinky's forehead. _Because – captain – care._

Pinky breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Right now, he _isn't_ brave, and he _isn't_ valuable to the crew, and he _can't_ step into the role of heir. So beneath it all – before he's a crewmember, before he's his heir… _why?_

And Sabeltann's fingers linger on Pinky's skin as he taps three times. _I_ _don't know._

Pinky leans into him with a withered little whine, and Sabeltann steadies him, folding his arms around his shoulders and drawing him into a tight embrace. _Flourish_ , he signs, across Pinky's back, and Pinky lets out a sob.

They tip over into the bed, but Pinky doesn't care, and it doesn't seem like Sabeltann does, either, as he only rolls to the side, so Pinky's broken wrist won't be hurt. _Don't leave_ , Pinky gasps out, when Sabeltann makes to move, _please, please –_

Sabeltann taps a single finger to Pinky's mouth, and he immediately quiets, though the tears still roll down his cheeks in quick succession, sounds that can't be anything but pathetic bursting from his throat. _No – leave_ , Sabeltann signs against Pinky's cheek. _Blanket_.

And true enough, he only grabs the duvet to pull it up properly around them, then shifts around so that he's cradling Pinky close, letting him tuck his head in beneath his chin. And like that, with Sabeltann's arms around him and a faint sensation of a heartbeat against his cheek, Pinky's sobs die down to a mere little sniffle.

 _Thank you_ , he whispers. Sabeltann taps _yes_ against his back – and his throat, now pressed close to Pinky's ear, vibrates.

Pinky blinks. _Did – captain – talk -?_

Another yes, followed by a question mark.

 _Pinky – felt_ , Pinky tries to explain. _What – captain – talk -?_

Sabeltann spells, _you – are – welcome_ , then signs, _Pinky – felt – captain – talk -?_

Pinky nods. Because he's too tired to spell, he says, out loud, _vibrations through your skin. I felt them._

Sabeltann immediately starts talking again, rumbling deep in his throat. He stops for a moment to sign, _no – talk – important – captain – only – talk – make – sound – is – ok -?_

Pinky nods again. _What – captain – talk -?_

 _Skalken – rat – soup_. Somehow Sabeltann manages to convey disgust. Pinky snorts, then starts laughing – Sabeltann laughs, too, his whole body shaking. Closing his eyes, Pinky listens to the reverberations from his throat. They're stronger when he laughs than when he talks.

 _Thank you_ , he says, again, when they've both stopped laughing.

Sabeltann taps _yes_ and says something out loud.

Pinky doesn't ask, this time.

*

The Grim Lady burns. Pinky sprints through the flames - so scorching bright, they make his eyes ache. He's holding a bucket of water - though when he looks down at it, it's full of crowns. He gasps, and then the metal gets unbearably hot - he drops the bucket, scattering the crowns all across deck. Looking up, he meets Sabeltann's disapproving gaze - eyes cold blue and cast in shadow.

Pinky wants to look away, but he can't - not until Sabeltann looks up, and Pinky follows his gaze. The main mast is breaking, the massive wood creaking and splintering as the whole ship shifts - and then it falls, it's falling, bringing the burning sails with it. Pinky tries to run out of the way, but he stumbles in a crown and falls, falls, falls -

The colours and sounds of the burning ship fade into nothingness, and then Pinky's on his back in a bed, and someone is sitting atop him, their hands wrapped around his wrists. Pinky's cheeks are sticky from tears. His eyes burn.

The panic from the dream slides seamlessly over into worry about the situation - though that soon evaporates as well, when the person lets go of Pinky's wrists to sign, _Pinky_ against his chest.

Only one person signs his name like that.

 _Captain,_ Pinky breathes, relaxing into the mattress.

A double-tap, then Sabeltann shifts off and away from him. _Pinky - dream - bad -?_

Pinky sniffles, curling a bit up onto himself. He's not keen on talking right now, but he doesn't want to move his hand to tap on Sabeltann's skin either - he tries nodding, but realizes it might be too dark in the room, and clicks his tongue twice instead.

Sabeltann taps _I understand - Pinky - ok-?_

 _No_ , Pinky clicks, and Sabeltann lies down beside him, hands warm against Pinky's skin. Pinky twists his hand to sign against Sabeltann's arm. _But - Pinky - will - be._

 _Yes._ Sabeltann threads his fingers through Pinky's hair, and Pinky lets his eyes slip closed, basking in the sensation. _What - Pinky - dream -?_

 _Ship - burn_ Pinky signs, biting the inside of his cheek. _Mast - fall._ He shivers, then repeats, _mast - fall._ His fingers curl around Sabeltann's hand, and he bends his head, pressing his face into the pillows.

Sabeltann takes his hand and puts it to his throat; he's making some form of sound. Pinky manages to sign, _what,_ against his skin, then stills.

 _Sing_ , signs Sabeltann, _captain - sing - hum - is - ok-?_

Pinky takes a deep breath. Another. Another. He shifts, unfurling his fingers to press his palm flat against Sabeltann's skin. Lightly, he taps twice.

Sabeltann keeps humming, and slowly but surely, Pinky fades into a peaceful sleep.

*

Sabeltann waves across Pinky's skin the next morning, just as close now, as he was last night. Pinky mumbles some vague noises in return, not yet wanting to get out of bed for just another day of aimlessly wallowing around in Sabeltann's cabin.

 _Captain - to - dress_ , Sabeltann signs, hands on Pinky's shoulders. _Go - eat - with - crew_. Pinky nods into the pillow, and Sabeltann scratches lightly across his back in amusement. _Pinky - come - with -?_

Pinky blinks, and then he's fully awake and pushing himself up into a sitting position. _What?_ he blurts. His voice croaks, and he grimaces, reaching blindly - Sabeltann takes his hand, offering his palm. _Pinky - come - with -? Now - today -? Captain - serious -?_

 _Captain - serious_ , Sabeltann signs. _Pinky - want -?_

Pinky taps twice, nearly flinging himself off the bed. His daytime pants should be around here somewhere! _Get dressed, then, captain_ , he calls, and makes a sound of victory when his palm brushes against the rather rough cloth of his pants.

A light scratch against Pinky's shoulders as Sabeltann moves past, then a double-tap. After a pause - Pinky wrangles his pants on and drags his fingers through his hair to comb it - Sabeltann steps up to his side and taps his elbow. Pinky offers his hand. _Careful_ , Sabeltann signs, _weather - good - but - still - new - place._

Pinky rolls his eyes with a smile. _Yes,_ he taps, then signs _idiot_ lightly.

 _Captain - worry_ , Sabeltann insists. _Pinky - want - cane -?_

Pinky hesitates. _Do - have -?_

Sabeltann spells out, _maybe,_ then switches back to signing. _No - cane - but - almost._

 _So you have a stick,_ Pinky says drily.

 _Maybe,_ spells Sabeltann again. Of course he'd take the time to spell it out just to make his point. He signs what they've agreed to mean 'I'll be right back, just wait here,' waits for Pinky's double-tap, then disappears. It doesn't take long before he returns, holding a stick by Pinky's hand.

Pinky takes it, using the elbow of his broken arm to hold it while he explores it with his other hand. It actually seems to be reasonably nice - not polished _smooth_ , but polished, nonetheless, and thick enough to not break if he leans onto it. When he puts it to the floor, it's about the right height, as well, and he smiles. _Thank you_ , he signs against his own chest, knowing Sabeltann is probably watching.

The tapped 'yes' on Pinky's shoulder is proof enough he did. _Good -?_

Pinky shifts the cane to his elbow again, signing, _good._ He hesitates, then reaches for Sabeltann, finding his arm. _Captain - guide - Pinky -?_

There's a pause. Sabeltann turns towards him but doesn't say anything before a hesitant _yes._

Pinky regrets asking immediately. _Captain - no - if - no - want,_ he signs, trying to step back to give him space.

Sabeltann follows, though. _Is - ok_ , he signs _, is - ok - captain - surprised - pinky - want - guide - with - cane._

Oh. Yes, well, that does make sense. _Cane - is - no - captain_. He shifts the cane around until he's holding it in his good hand, then gently puts his still-bandaged wrist on Sabeltann's elbow. _Food?_ he asks, out loud, because it's hard to sign when holding something.

Sabeltann scratches his shoulder, then taps twice.

The moment they walk out the door, Pinky enters uncharted waters. His fingers, resting on Sabeltann's elbow, twitch. One step. Two.

And... it's okay. He's okay. He's doing... just fine, actually - one step before the other, wood beneath his feet. The cane is helping, just a tiny bit - between the wood knocking into rope every now and then, and Sabeltann steering him away from obstacles, he's pretty safe.

 _Ok -?_ Sabeltann signs.

Pinky nods.

 _Stairs_ , Sabeltann signs, then, _four_. Pinky feels out the staircase with his cane, holding his breath as they climb - and that goes well, too. _Door_ signs Sabeltann. There's a bit of fumbling as they figure out who goes first, and then they're through, and -

The sun is shining. It warms his skin, soothing and real, and Pinky tilts his head back just the slightest bit to bask in it. The ever-present wind of the sea tugs at his hair, and he smiles, smiles, smiles. He's real. He's alive.

 _Ok -?_ Sabeltann signs.

 _I can feel the sun_ , Pinky breathes. _And the wind..._

Sabeltann puts a light hand over his bandaged wrist. He pauses, then signs as well as he can across the bandages, _Benjamin - talk - hello._

Pinky calls out, _hi, Benjamin!_ A person falls into step on Pinky's other side, and he tilts his head, trying to figure out who it is.

 _Benjamin_ , Sabeltann signs, _join - food._

Benjamin waves over Pinky's shoulder and Pinky beams in his direction.

Soon, they're all gathered in the mess. Pinky's been placed on Sabeltann's left side - he never sat there before - and he figures it's Langemann seated opposite of him. Several crewmembers stop by to greet him, some which he recognizes and others whom he needs Sabeltann's help to identify.

Overall, it goes alright. With Sabeltann's assistance and assurance, he gets through the food without spilling too much on himself or the table (he thinks).

The biggest surprise of the meal, Pinky finds, is Sabeltann keeping up the niceties from private. Even when he isn't touching Pinky's hand, his knee presses into Pinky's hip or thigh. He signs every now and then, asking mostly _ok -?_ and sometimes commenting on something that happens around the table. Whenever someone wants to talk to him, but they're too far away, Sabeltann translates for them. Benjamin, who sits on Pinky's left side, regularly makes small talk against Pinky's shoulder.

No one's shunning him. Sabeltann would've told him if they did.

*

Later, when they've finished eating and returned to Sabeltann's cabin, Langemann follows for a discussion about their course, according to Sabeltann.

 _Do - Pinky - want - know - talk -?_ Sabeltann asks as he nudges Pinky towards one of the sitting chairs.

Pinky considers it, but figures he can't make any valuable inputs anyway (especially as he can't see the map, and their signs are better at conversations than descriptions), and shakes his head. Sabeltann taps _I understand_ on his shoulder, then asks _puzzles -?_

 _Chest_ , Pinky responds, knowing he'll never be able to make Sabeltann understand which puzzle he's asking for - as he doesn't even know himself.

Two taps, then _be right back._ A moment later, Pinky holds the chest in his hands. He settles into the chair and begins to sort through the chest to find something to do.

*

Sabeltann helps ease him into it. Food in the mess once a day, twice a day, thrice a day. Walks around the deck, climbing staircases, ducking into rooms and right out again. Pinky starts walking a bit more on his own, feeling out walls and floors and getting the hang of the layout of different rooms. He counts steps between masts and gunwales and doors, closing his eyes and mouthing the numbers to himself. Sabeltann follows, always close by - first with a hand on his shoulder, then later just nearby.

When Pinky's wrist is proclaimed well enough to start muscle exercises, Sabeltann seems somewhat withdrawn. The explanation comes the same night - Sabeltann sits on the bedside, signing, _do - Pinky - want - sleep - with - crew - now -?_

Pinky swallows, his gaze fixed on the point he knows their hands connect. A few weeks back, he wouldn't have dared say this, but - Sabeltann has woken him from nightmares and sung him to sleep, and there's no one, at this point, who Pinky can talk as easily with as he can him. _I'd rather stay here if it's all the same to you_ , he mutters, curling his fingers around Sabeltann's. _I don't... know if I'll feel safe in a hammock. Alone._

Sabeltann squeezes four times. _But - Pinky - no - alone -?_

 _Not physically_ , Pinky says. He tilts Sabeltann's hand and signs, _but - feel - alone - because - don't know - where - crew - is._

When Sabeltann squeezes four times again, it's harder. He leans into Pinky, then presses a kiss to his temple (for the record, it takes Pinky a moment to realize it's a kiss; when he does, he blushes furiously). Sabeltann doesn't pull back, just shifts a little. _Pinky - stay - yes_ \- _captain - here._

Pinky tilts his head; Sabeltann raises his chin, and just like that, Pinky's nestled against his chest, head tucked against his throat. He signs, _thank you_ , then eases his arms around Sabeltann's torso, breathing, breathing, breathing.

And he goes to sleep like that, dreading the fact that he might have to genuinely consider that he's falling in love with his captain.

*

Pinky wakes that night, judging by the thickness of the shadows and the heaviness of his own body. He lies still for a while, assessing the situation - how nothing seems to be moving or changing, other than the constant rocking of the ocean.

Sabeltann's arm - he assumes it's Sabeltann's arm - is slung around his torso, and Pinky's so close Sabeltann's heat radiates into Pinky's back. Are their feet tangled? Pinky bites his lip, shifting his feet just the slightest bit, and - oh, yep, their feet are tangled, absolutely.

Sabeltann isn't moving, so he's probably still asleep - and thank God for that, Pinky isn't sure he wants to deal with this situation right now - not even after Sabeltann's temple-kiss.

He shifts, pushing back just the slightest bit - Sabeltann's arm is beneath the pillow, he can tell by the rise and fall - and, ever so careful, Pinky slowly lowers his head onto it.

So close are they, now, that Sabeltann's torso is only millimetres away from Pinky's back - whenever he breathes, Pinky feels his chest rise and fall. Content with this, Pinky shifts his arm to loop around Sabeltann's, lightly resting his fingers atop the back of his hand.

There's a brief moment's pause, and then Sabeltann's hand shifts, too, their fingers intertwining.

Pinky closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Two. Three.

It's far too late to be considering unnecessary and unwanted attractions, he concludes, and goes back to sleep.

*

Sabeltann wants him to practice duelling. Pinky is skeptical and tells him as much, but Sabeltann sternly tells him that no heir of his is going to be walking around defenceless.

 _I'm not defenceless!_ Pinky complains.

Sabeltann shoves him. The world topples and tilts, and then Pinky's on his knees on the floor, gasping.

 _That's not fair, I trust you_! Pinky exclaims, clambering to his feet again. _Why would I be on guard around you?_

A pause. Pinky tenses up, now, awaiting another push - he tries to sense where in the room Sabeltann is - if he can feel the air waft around him -

The next shove comes from an entirely new angle, and Pinky yelps, staggering sideways to try and keep upright. Sabeltann is there in an instant, hand gentle on his elbow. While Pinky catches his breath, Sabeltann signs, _Pinky - good - fighter - but - must - learn - again._

And before Pinky has the time to stop himself, he snaps, _I suppose you learned this because of your accident, too?_

Sabeltann spells, _somewhat_ against Pinky's shoulder, and Pinky deflates - but Sabeltann continues before he can respond. _Captain - know - Pinky - scared - but - Pinky - cannot - stop._

Scared?

Of _course_ he's scared - Sabeltann is asking him to wave a pointy stick around, risking his own and other's health in the process. Without vision and hearing, it's going to be incredibly hard to know where to point the pointy end - not to mention, know which end _is_ the pointy end.

But. But this is Sabeltann asking, and as Pinky said, he _trusts_ him - probably more than he should, too. And duelling has always been one of the things to bring Pinky the most joy. Is he going to let this accident - this _blasted_ mast - take not only his vision and hearing but his happiness, too?

( _Pinky - will - flourish -!_ )

And Pinky reaches for Sabeltann and signs _ok - when - start -?_

*

It's a slow and tedious process, and they begin with Pinky alone. He asks for that - to get familiar with the blade again before they start properly.

And it's... surprisingly easy. It's still _his_ cutlass - he knows it, inside-out and upside-down - he's fought and won countless battles with this.

Going slow at first, then eventually faster, he starts circling through patterns and moves - Sabeltann gently interrupting, every now and then, to correct a stance.

It takes days with meticulous training and practice before Pinky feels comfortable enough with his sword to call it a lengthened arm once again. That is maybe the most essential part, to think of the sword as a part of him and instinctually know where there's room for it in Sabeltann's cabin.

 _Pinky - ready - fight -?_ Sabeltann asks, after nearly a week of practice.

Not really, Pinky muses, but he figures it's better now than never. He nods.

And that's even slower. Sabeltann goes careful, moves sluggish and lazy, blade tapping lightly against Pinky's. Even with the help of shadows and light dancing around them, it's not _nearly_ as easy as it used to be.

Pinky fights through gritted teeth, feeling out the surroundings, trusting his footwork to take him where he needs to go. It's incredibly difficult, even when Sabeltann is as slow as he is, and Pinky often ends with headaches and shirts drenched in sweat.

But it _works_. Sabeltann starts going faster - quicker - harder - and Pinky keeps up, just barely. He loses, again and again and again, Sabeltann's blade pressed to his throat, his stomach, his chest.

 _Pinky - has - advantage_ , Sabeltann signs, after a rather long session. Pinky's sitting beside him on the floor, the two cutlasses lying on the wood between them.

 _?_ Pinky draws on Sabeltann's outstretched palm.

 _They - will - underestimate - Pinky_ , Sabeltann explains. _Think - Pinky - weak - when - Pinky - is - no._

Pinky laughs and thanks him for the compliment.

 _No - compliment_ , Sabeltann complains, signing up and down Pinky's arm for emphasis. _Captain - mean - Pinky - no - weak -!_ There's a pause, and then Sabeltann starts shaking with laughter. _Captain - stumbled - today._

Pinky snorts, then the snort becomes giggled laughter, which then becomes loud cackling. _Wow_! he exclaims, through the laughter. _Wow, you stumbled! I'm dead fifteen times over from today alone, captain!_

Sabeltann signs, _ten - less - from - last_ , and they're both laughing, Sabeltann's whole body shaking with his humour.

Pinky wishes he could hear it, and the pang of bittersweet sorrow that follows drowns his laughter nearly immediately. Sabeltann notices, tracing a concerned _?_ on Pinky's skin.

Pinky signs back. _Pinky - wish - hear - captain - laugh_.

He's not willing to take the risk of saying it out loud.

To his surprise, Sabeltann leans forward and into him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders to tuck him into his chest. _Captain - know_ , Sabeltann signs. _Captain - know._ He pulls back again too soon for Pinky's comfort, then signs, _but - at least - no - hear - Skalken - laugh -?_

It's the first time he's tried to comfort with jokes, and it startles a laugh out of Pinky. He thinks about it - Skalken's guffawing, ear-piercing laugh, often accompanied by sniffling of one kind or another.

He starts giggling. _If - only - no - smell_ , he signs, and Sabeltann laughs, too.

The shadows in the room change and Pinky stiffens, tilting his head towards the door. _Langemann_ is signed against Pinky's arm, and he relaxes immediately. There's a rather long pause - they must be talking - and then Sabeltann signs, _Pinky - want - fight - Langemann-?_

Pinky bites his lip. _Pinky - will - lose - on - deck - embarrassed._

Sabeltann tapped once. _Remember - captain - tell - Pinky - advantage -?_

Well, of course - it was just moments ago - oh! _Captain - think - will - work -?_

_Yes. Langemann - will - be - careful._

The unspoken words were clear. He'd be careful. _Too_ careful.

 _I understand_ , Pinky taps.

_Crush - him._

Pinky giggles. _Pinky - will - try_ , he allows.

He's never been able to beat Langemann before, but - maybe? He's never been able to make Sabeltann stumble before, either. If he even _did_ stumble.

No. Sabeltann would not lie to him. If he thinks he can take on Langemann, there's a chance he might.

He stands, fumbling for his cutlass as he does. Fine. He'll do his best.

*

It's a long, hard fight. The sun is beating down at them, which is a bonus for Pinky and likely a drawback for Langemann - the shadows are sharper than in Sabeltann's cabin, and if the light is too much, he can close his eyes. Langemann struggles more - and he's slow, and definitely not working at his average speed, but Pinky can sense surprise in his moves and redoubles his efforts.

And Pinky wins. Just barely - a fluke, really, he'd battled Langemann back to a coil of rope that hadn't been on deck the day before - and Langemann had walked straight into the trap, stumbling back and into the mast - and Pinky had pressed his cutlass against his throat, sharp-side down.

He heaves for breath. There's sweat trickling down his back; a cloud passes over the sun, casting his world in a darker shade.

Someone touches his shoulder, and Pinky jumps a little before Sabeltann makes himself known. _Crew - applause_ , he signs, and Pinky flushes, drawing back from Langemann. He hadn't realized they were watching. _Captain - tell - Pinky -! Captain - knew - Pinky - win._

Pinky sheats the cutlass with a flustered little harrumph. _Just barely_ , he mutters.

 _Yes_ , Sabeltann allows, _but - Pinky - win._

And Pinky can't really argue with that.

*

 _Thank you_ , he says, the same day, when the sun has set, and they're readying for bed.

Sabeltann, who's been moving around next to Pinky, stills. _?_

Pinky picks at the hem of his shirt, head ducked in an attempt to keep his expression hidden. _For not giving up on me,_ he whispers. _I think I would've given up on myself._

Shifting, Sabeltann turns to face Pinky - his leg brushes up against Pinky's knee, and he jumps a little, startled. _Pinky - important,_ he signs. _No - give - up._

 _Or so you keep telling me_ , Pinky says, and he lets himself smile, for the notion does fill him with immense relief. _Thank you._

 _Captain - care_ , Sabeltann signs. There's a hesitant pause; he hovers, and Pinky waits, patient. _Ask - captain - why._

Pinky blinks. _But I know why?_

_Captain - really - doubt - Pinky - know. Ask - why._

Deciding to humour him, Pinky chuckles and says, _okay, why do you care_?

Sabeltann takes Pinky's hands and puts them on his own cheeks, leans forward, and kisses him.

 _Oh_ , thinks Pinky.

It's a short-lived, gentle little thing - a barely-there brush of lips feat a _fantastic_ scratch of mustache against Pinky's upper lip, Sabeltann's hair across Pinky's forehead and his clean smell in his nose.

And by God, Pinky is about to die.

Sabeltann pulls back.

 _Oh,_ squeaks Pinky, and trembles. A kiss. A kiss. A kiss can mean so incredibly much, and he doesn't want to assume - _what does that mean?_ he asks, quiet and afraid.

And Sabeltann taps three times on Pinky's cheek.

Pinky's breath hitches. _Okay_ , he whispers, and if they've gotten this far, he might as well go all the way. _Because I think I might be falling just a teeny tiny bit in love._

Sabeltann kisses him again, rougher now - more frantic, desperation bleeding into his moves. Pinky makes a soft sound against him and returns the kiss, moving his hands - winding them into Sabeltann's hair.

They break the kiss. Pinky rests his forehead against Sabeltann's, his breath fanning quick against Pinky's skin. _What does that mean?_ Pinky asks again.

They have no sign for love, but Pinky knows the shape of a heart - and it isn't much else it can mean when traced against his chest like that.

Pinky kisses Sabeltann, this time, clumsy and uncertain. He misses by a bit, but Sabeltann doesn't seem to mind, adjusting him without hesitation.

There's so much relief in the motion that Pinky's concept of time ultimately bleeds away - and there's no need for anything more, just lazy kisses in bed for hours on end.

 _What - change - now -?_ Sabeltann signs, when they've come to the conclusion that it's too late to be kissing much more, and Pinky's in his arms.

 _Well,_ muses Pinky, _we could kiss a bit more often. That would be nice._

Sabeltann laughs, and Pinky puts a hand to his throat to feel it - content, and warm, and pleased.

He will flourish, even through this. He - Prince of the Seven Seas, blind and deaf but far from hopeless.

He will flourish.

He will.


End file.
